Perfection is not Immortal
by Johanna Night
Summary: Even goddesses can fall.1)Hera:"He donned a mask of apology; I fell hard"2)Nemesis "Revenge has no place with the rest."3)Artemis:"Maybe-with time-I might have grown to love him."4)Persephone:"Mother-I love him!" 5)Hestia:"I dared to hope-don't let me down."6)Amphitrite:"It's hard to know you've been cheated."7)Nyx:"Most forget the basic elements."
1. Hera

**A/N: I do not own PJO or HOO.**

PERCY

He would've said it was a perfect day, despite the screaming of Olympus as all the demigods and immortals threw their hearts into celebrating the end of the Giant War. He was relieved, he supposed, but had no intention of getting stone drunk and stumbling around like Dionysus on steroids.

But over the screaming was a more quiet noise, something he hadn't heard since he collapsed in front of the Doors of Death. Sure, he'd seen Annabeth come close, but it had been a while since he heard someone cry.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he started towards the direction of the sobs.

The garden of Olympus was beautiful even through the war, with roses and tulips blooming so brightly they glowed in the dim light. Music _still_ reached his ears though he was a good mile away from the source, and he internally winced at the thought of actually being next to the sound.

He was so busy in thought for once that he almost fell onto the metal bench.

Hades, even the _benches_ were fancy, engraved with sophisticated looking words in English and Ancient Greek. Golden swirls covered the entire backing, and they could've been real for all he knew. Annabeth had a knack for making things out of precious metals; it came with struggling to be perfect, he supposed.

The woman pulled her knees up onto the bench and hugged them, a chestnut braid weaved with gold and peacock feathers falling over her shoulder. Her luminescent dress glowed just like the flowers around her, but it was tattered, as if it had ripped through a rosebush. The hem hung over the side of the bench, streaked with dirt, and torn to pieces from trailing on the ground.

Hera.

He wondered what Zeus had done this time.

Tentatively, he sat down next to her-for all he knew, the Queen of the Gods might blast him to pieces just for seeing her. Briefly, he thought about leaving before she noticed his presence, but before he could stand she lifted her head.

Her golden brown eyes were tear stained and slightly red from crying; it took a while for her to notice him through the haze of tears. Instantaneously, she snapped her fingers, restoring her state to the stern woman he had once loathed, and admittedly still held somewhat of a grudge to.

"Should you not be with the Daughter of Athena?" if he hadn't been paying attention, he might've missed the slight quiver in her voice, the lack of the cold harshness she treated him with. But as much as Annabeth told him, the Hero of Olympus was not as dense as he seemed.

"She is inside, with her mother," He answered somewhat stiffly, still wary of the goddess. "She told me to get some air." Hera nodded, fiddling with an object around her ring finger.

Though Percy would never be known as the sharpest sword-Hades, he was probably one of the most dull-even he knew it was a wedding ring. "Something wrong, My Lady?" The words were unfamiliar in his mouth, as he had never had much respect for the Goddess of Marriage.

She shook her head so quickly her braid fell apart, and with a slight huff she re-braided the end and stood, her robes whisking across the ground. "I must be going now," She said crisply, turning to leave. In a split second decision, he stood and grasped her arm.

"Wait!"

On second though, that might not have been the smartest thing to do. Hera already hated his guts-well, most of them-and he braced himself to be turned into a small furry animal.

It never came. Hera turned, her features settling into a cool composed mask again. "Yes?" One eyebrow arched as she waited for him to speak, almost _daring_ him to say something.

He swallowed, preparing to be turned into a newt. "Did...did your husband do anything?"

Hera froze. Percy was sure she was about to transform him into a reptile of some sort, but she turned and cautiously lowered herself onto the bench again. A breath of relief escaped his lips, and she shot him an almost amused smile.

Wait, what?

Hera did three emotions-furious, impassive, and annoyed. And she never smiled. So _What_ in the name of Poseidon was going on here?

The goddess wrapped her shawl tighter around herself, almost instinctively. "Mortals say it helps to talk," She wondered out loud, her words soft but still somehow loud. Music still played, the sound of thousands of people yelling echoing slightly in the background.

"It doesn't," he blurted before he thought. "It never does." Well, the words were out there, so what could he do? She raised her eyebrow again, waiting for an explanation. "It relives the memory in a bad way." The goddess nodded, fiddling with her ring again.

"You are correct in your assumption," She said finally, looking up. For once, her expression was unguarded, open and trusting, and he had the feeling he would not be seeing this expression often. "Zeus is off, drunk on some alcoholic drink."

Her eyes watered for a second.

"With another woman?" He dared to ask, edging away from Hera as if that would save him if she indeed became furious. But Hera just sighed, looking down at her hands again, slender and milky white.

"With another woman." As Percy slid a little closer to her, he realized that in her mortal form he was the same height as her, if not taller. Tentatively, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She tensed, and just as he thought he was done for the goddess of marriage leaned her head on his shoulder, as if too weary to put up a facade. "I thought it would be different this time," She spoke wistfully, shifting slightly. "I thought he would be able to stay faithful for _one_ night. I should've known I was wrong."

The wedding ring glowed white-hot for a second, and she yelped before glancing down at it just as it fractured. The silver band mended itself in seconds, but the goddess stared at it for a long time, not looking up at him. A tear splattered on her hand, and she hastily wiped it away, still gazing at the diamond.

Somewhere, Percy remembered a myth-an old one, but a legitimate one. "Is that..." He trailed off, afraid of offending Hera.

She nodded slowly, a sob tearing from her throat. Burying her head in her hands, horrible gut wrenching cries wracked her body with shuddering gasps. He watched, awkwardly at first, before pulling her closer.

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Hera inhaled brokenly before she sagged with sorrow. "Zeus was so kind when i first saw him," She murmured to him, clutching his sleeve like a lifeline. "He was so determined, and i agreed to marry him, hoping he'd stay faithful."

Percy nodded, tracing circles absently on her back. If someone told him he would be holding the one goddess that hated him more than Athena, he would have called Apollo without a second thought, but when did his life ever go to plan?

"The first time, i forgave him," She remembered. Her eyes welled with tears again, glimmering with the light of the stars. "I killed the nymph he was with, and only later did i find that he had forced himself upon her." she twisted her hands together again. "The second time...well, he was a wonderful actor, and i fell hard."

He smoothed a lock of chocolate colored hair behind her ear, listening intently. "The third time...there were so many times by then i hardly cared." A bitter laugh burst from her lips. "I loved him, i supposed, but he never loved me. Perhaps at first, but..."

She looked up at him for the first time since she started talking, resting her chin on his shoulder. SHe was definetely shorter than him in her mortal form...

"You were right," She admitted, her lips set in a grim line. "Talking doesn't help."

If it was Annabeth, he would've been gloating till the day he joined Hades, but... this was _Hera._ She would smite him to the ends of the universe before he could hold it over her head.

The bushes rustled and they froze, turning and facing Athena, who was staring at them, gaping. Annabeth stood behind her, her gray eyes wide with shock.

"Is that..._Hera?_" Sheepishly, he unhooked his arm from around her, and Hera lifted her head from his shoulder.

"_Thank you," _She murmured in his ear, so soft no one but him heard. "_For listening._" Then she was gone, a swirl of peacock feathers and a dumbstruck wisdom goddess the only indication she had ever been there.

If he had managed to _wow_ the goddess of wisdom...well, that was a major accomplishment.

"You, Perseus Jackson," Athena mused, eying him carefully. "Have a knack for defying the odds." She fixed him with a stare before turning. "Treat my daughter well." Then she too, was gone, melting into nothingness.

Annabeth shook her head before looping her arm through his, smiling slightly. "Seaweed Brain," She muttered, but she didn't look very angry. Amusement shone in her eyes. "Only you."

He kissed the top of her head. "Hera really isn't that bad, you know. Thousands of years of putting of with Zeus has got to have made her bitter."

"_I'm sorry! Really! I didn't mean it-auuugh! Apollo, help me! Poseidon? An angry goddess chasing me here!"_

The cry startled the two, and Annabeth looked up. "I wonder who _that_ could be." A sly gleam in her eyes caught the light and gave her away, and Percy squeezed her hand.

"Must not have been very important, then." Annabeth nodded, watching the night sky.

"_Help me! Hades? Demeter! Help! Auuugh!"_

**A/N: Well. I had the idea stuck in my head for a while, and thought, why not publish it? So here goes. Review if you liked it; it's the pretty little button at the bottom of the page. I am starting a new series with this oneshot, where Percy comforts and/or helps some of the Olympian goddesses, or just a goddess in general. Review if you want a certain goddess or immortal to be mentions-I'm open to ideas!  
**

**Thanks for reading!  
**

**~Johanna Night**


	2. Nemesis

**A/N: I do not own PJO. Special thanks to The Invisible Pretender for the inspiration of this.**

PERCY

The water lapped at his feet and blew a salty tang into his face, a spray of saltwater rising up from the waves. Sand grit under the soles of his feet as he watched the horizon, glistening tides pulling and retreating.

"Rough day?"

He spun, his sword bursting into form without him noticing. Nemesis jumped back, her traditional white robes flying backwards at the movement. He capped his blade, narrowing his eyes at the Goddess of Revenge.

"And?" Probably not the best thing to say, he noted, but plenty of immortals already hated him, and Nemesis had never been high on his respect list. Leo had told him she took the form of those he hated most, but he was sure he'd never seen her before.

Still, he recognized her somehow—maybe it was the same glossy black hair as her son, Ethan, or maybe just some interior sense that allowed him to see her.

Without answering his question, she took a seat on the sand next to him, dipping her feet into the water. "The war is over," she began.

Percy frowned. It wasn't like a goddess to make small talk, unless they wanted something in return. Nineteen years of dealing with Olympus had alerted him to the fact. "I guess." His answer was vague, still somewhat wary. "What do you want?"

Nemesis laughed, a hard edge distracting from the otherwise cheerful sound. "Impatient, aren't you?" She gathered her robes and sat. "Nothing."

"What?" The goddess sighed, gathering curly locks and tossing them behind her shoulder.

"Nothing," She repeated. "I want nothing. The Olympians are throwing another fit over a temple the Daughter of Athena designed, and truthfully they were acting like immortal, all powerful toddlers." She smiled bitterly, kicking her feet in the waves. "And it was a ceremony, too."

"I guess that's why you're in white?"

The goddess scowled. "Yes. Blasted gods and their adoration for 'bright, happy colors.'" She rolled her eyes, poking at the fabric of her dress. "I must say, it's refreshing to talk to a demigod again without threatening them." Nemesis tucked another lock of hair behind her ear.

"Okay?" Percy knew he sounded ignorant and slightly stupid—okay, he admitted it. But seriously? How do you stay calm when a goddess plops down next to you and starts making small talk? He certainly wasn't going to kowtow at her feet, but it was still unnerving.

"Your friend Leo—the son of Hephaestus—he's a special case, is he not?" It was a strange topic, one not often brought up, and Percy glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching her. Nemesis kicked her heels in the sand, as if frustrated with something—herself, or probably him. He tended to make people feel that way.

"Leo? Probably. He still blames himself for 'sending us to Tartarus.'" Percy frowned as images of empousai and the river of fire flashing into his mind. "When will he get over the fact that it wasn't his fault? It wasn't like the fortune cookie made that much of a difference—"

He cut off abruptly as Nemesis turned to stare at him, dark eyes scrutinizing him for each and every flaw. "It was," She said quietly. If a goddess could look guilty, he swore she did. "That's the problem. They do unexpected things, and as much as Leo will tell you different, that's why I despise giving them out."

She was definitely guilty—he had spent his life struggling to figure out Annabeth, and Nemesis wasn't much harder. She had the same guarded expression as Annabeth and most of the Olympian goddesses, as if she was trying to hide her emotions from both others and herself.

"The daughter of Athena was never supposed to fall," She admitted, picking at the hem of her dress. "Nor were you. So I suppose some part of it was my fault." The goddess spat out the words like they were bitter, and he could understand; as a goddess, she was supposed to be below apologizing or admitting faults.

"_I _chose to fall," He reminded her. "I…I couldn't leave her again."

"The first time wasn't your fault," She told him, almost smiling now. A pale hand drifted downwards and cupped a handful of sand, letting it trickle from her fingers. "The second time, well… maybe it was." She was definitely smiling, almost a sincere one now.

He watched her silently, not sure what to say or do. Goddesses were touchy in the 'if you say one word wrong I'll blast you to oblivion' or in Artemis's case, the 'turn you into a small furry animal with antlers' kind. So he wasn't exactly eager to blurt out his thoughts.

"You want to know why I'm the goddess of _Revenge,_ and not anything else?" He nodded slightly, still somewhat wary even after she expressed no intention of blasting him to bits. "I was born from Erebus and Nyx,"He winced at the name of the deity that had attempted to kill him.

"Go on?" He prompted, curious.

"Zeus didn't trust her," She remembered. Her fingers laced together, entwining and twisting. "He needed to keep an eye on her—that's why she hated you two, you know. Gaea—her sister—promised her freedom from Zeus's arrogant gaze, and she agreed. You, Perseus—"

"Percy," He corrected instinctively, cowering at the withering glare she sent in his direction. "Sorry." She shook her head, her eyes twinkling with something like amusement.

"Percy," She started again. "You are the son of Poseidon, Zeus's brother, and Annabeth is the daughter of Athena, Zeus's daughter. My mother has good reason to be angry." She sighed. "I joined the Titans for the same reason, you know. Zeus never trusted me, either. As the goddess of _Revenge,_ well…it's pretty hard to trust someone like that."

Percy ran his fingers through his hair. "I trust you?" It came out as a question, and Nemesis shot him an incredulous glance.

"Do you really?" Her gaze was piercing, and he realized he found it hard to trust someone who looked like they could skewer you at any moment. But then again, he trusted Annabeth, so…

"I guess."

The goddess scoffed. "You don't," She reasoned. "No one does. Even Ethan didn't—he's still convinced you were the hero, you know? A war that happened three years ago, and my only son still hates me for taking his eye."

"Didn't he agree?" Blame Poseidon for his ignorance, Percy thought, hoping the goddess would at least _try_ not to kill him before the end of the conversation. Luckily, Nemesis seemed to be in a decent mood.

"Yes, he did," She fiddled with her dress again. "But I promised him _he_ would set things right. He believed me, and I told the truth—he inspired you, didn't he?" She narrowed her eyes.

Percy nodded somewhat reluctantly. "I guess. Him and Luke."

"The Son of Hermes," Nemesis muttered. "Yes. I know." When he furrowed his eyebrows at her, she managed a small chuckle. "I _am_ a goddess, you know." _Gee, thanks for reminding me you could blast me to bits at any moment. Just when I was starting to forget._

"He doesn't know that," The goddess closed her eyes for a second, before turning her head. "The last time I saw him, he was dying, after being thrown off Olympus. 'I can't believe I ever trusted you,' –they were his last words." Her fist clenched. "I was right, though—Revenge took payment. And despite what I told Leo and the others—I did not enjoy accepting his eye. It was not proper payment."

Percy thought back to when he was fourteen, when he thought Nemesis was a horrible mom for taking her son's eye as payment. Now, he saw maybe it was something she had to do, not something she wanted to do.

"He's just angry," He tried to say, but it sounded harsh and false even to his ears. "I'm sure he still lo—" He cut off as the goddess slumped, her hair spilling into her face. "He doesn't hate you."

"He does," She argued. "He told me."

Percy swallowed hard, before setting his hand on her shoulder. She jerked upwards so fast her hair almost lashed him in the face, but finally she relaxed. "He said you deserved a throne," Percy told her, remembering Ethan's indecision. "A throne with the Olympians."

She sighed again, picking herself up and brushing the sand from her clothes. "I should join the argument before the gods forget all about the ceremony." After taking two steps away from him, she turned. He had never thought of the Goddess of Revenge as beautiful, but she was, in a harsh manner.

"He was wrong," She whispered, lifting the hem of her robe out of the sand. "Revenge has no place with the rest. But thank you for believing so."

And then the goddess was gone, her retreating figure white against the bright horizon.

**A/N: if the characters are OOC, then, well...they don't tell Nemesis much in PJO, and only as a minor character in HOO. So forgive me if I make Nemesis different from what you imagined her. Another thanks to The Invisible Pretender for being the first and only reviewer, as well as giving the idea for this chapter. If you're reading this, did it meet your expectations?**

**Thanks for reading, and press the review button down on the bottom of the page!**

**~Johanna**


	3. Artemis

**I do not own PJO**

PERCY

Fangs lashed out at him as he raised Riptide, the magical blade reassuring him. The edge bounced harmlessly off the impenetrable skin of the Fleeth, and he cursed his luck—he just _had_ to get _this_ monster out of all the rest.

It's eyes glowed with red, and he made the mistake of looking into them. They pierced into his soul, scanning him for his faults. _Your fault,_ little voices whispered in the back of his mind. Voices he _knew,_ he realized. Voices of his friends—now long deceased.

_How could you have let me die?_ Zoë accused, her voice piercing and laced with fury. _If you hadn't interfered, I'd be alive! _He shook his head, fighting away the thoughts. The haze disappeared from his eyes just as the beast lunged, snapping jaws closing just over his head.

Zoë doesn't blame me, he reassured himself. She said so. The thought energized him, and he slashed upwards, severing a tooth from the Fleeth's mouth. It roared with rage, snarling.

_Thud_. An arrow embedded itself in the soft part of the paw, but to his dismay, it wasn't enough to subdue the creature. It shook it's mane out, tossed the arrow aside, and advanced, it's pack following as all three abandoned him and charged for the Moon Goddess.

Artemis' auburn hair flashed like a torch as she fired arrows, but most shattered under its invulnerable skin. The monster was smart enough to keep its mouth shut, and even its eyes were lidded into slits, narrowed in order to protect the soft flesh.

Silver gleamed as arrows flew by him, but it simply shook its mane and advanced again, slashing at the goddess, who cleaved upwards with her hunting knife. The blade caught the beast under its jaw, but it slipped out and lunged again. His eyes glowed, and before Percy could call a warning, the goddess looked up.

Immediately, her silvery eyes widened and glazed over, tapered fingers clenching on her bow. The beast roared, sensing victory. "Not my fault," She hissed through gritted teeth, her arrow straying until it was so far off course if she shot it, the point wouldn't be anywhere near the creature.

Still, she was a goddess, and some part of her took over, and just as the Fleeth opened it's jaws, her knife slashed off another jagged tooth. Her aim was still off, though, her eyes still slightly glazed.

The beast lunged again, and almost in a trance, she dropped the knife.

Percy panicked. If this monster could stun even a goddess, he was sure he stood no chance. He lowered his sword for the smallest of seconds, before he tightened his grip; he was _doing _this. For everyone.

As the monster charged again, he did the stupidest thing possible—he raised his blade and lunged, the edge clanging uselessly off the pelt. It roared and bit at him, forgetting about the goddess. She raised her bow again, shakily aiming it at the monster.

Percy's energy was draining as he struggled to distract it, but Artemis' arrow wavered. It steadied itself, but the tip dipped low—dangerously low—for a second, before it shot up again. She tightened her grip on the arrow, so tight her knuckles turned white.

He turned—the monster followed. She drew back her arm as if to shoot, and suddenly the beast was turning back towards her, it's eyes gleaming crimson, and her eyes glazed again. The grip she had on her arrow loosened, and the silver plopped from the string and landed on the soil, only a couple feet away.

"No," She murmured, so quietly he had to strain to hear it. Silver eyes flashed with—was that regret? She lunged, but it was almost deranged, as if throttling an animal that failed to exist. The beast howled, extending it's claws, and just as it brought them down Percy moved.

He made his decision so quickly he surprised even himself, tackling the moon goddess and sending them both rolling from the impact. _How could you? You killed me!_ A voice so familiar yet so distant filled his ears, but he was sure he had never watched the death of this person.

Artemis pushed him off her, her eyes still dazed. The bow was still in her hand, aimed at anything and everything that moved.

She stepped forwards, her hand clenching again. The monster snarled, tensing to pounce again, but she didn't notice, squeezing her eyes shut as if to ward off invisible beings. Her bow dipped before it clattered to the ground, and the Fleeth leaped.

"Lady Artemis!" The goddess didn't move, trapped in her own mind. "_Snap out of it!_" In a final attempt, he doused her face with water, and as she spluttered the fog seemed to clear from her. Artemis stumbled backwards, drying herself off instinctively, and glared at him before she hefted her bow again.

Three arrows pierced the monster's left eye, and as it howled in pain, Percy threw his sword like a Frisbee. It was a foolish thought that it would hit, but it managed to strike the monster's tongue.

The Fleeth turned in a circle, wailing as it dissolved into sulfurous red vapor, it's pelt shimmering before turning into a raccoon hat fedora, much like a helmet. He glanced at it for a second, before nudging it with his foot, not exactly thrilled to wear a fedora.

Artemis brushed the dust out of her hair, scowling at him. "How much did you hear?" She snapped, her bow leveled at his chest. It wasn't exactly the best motivation, but better than being shot.

Percy gulped. "Uh…the '_How could you! You killed me!_' part?" Artemis glowered at him, still refusing to lower her bow. Her eyes glowed silver as she stared at him, and she nodded grudgingly, as if judging that he wasn't lying. He swallowed his fear. "My lady…was that Orion?"

Artemis' head snapped up, and she narrowed her eyes at him threateningly. "What is it to you, _boy?_" Her tone was cold and frosty, but he somehow knew he had hit a nerve. "What do you wish to know?"

He held his hands up—anything to avoid being turned into a reindeer. As if reading his thoughts, the goddess glared at him again. "Jackalope, _boy,_ not _reindeer._" Neither option sounded particularily appealing at the moment, and he thought about his answer for once before replying.

"It sounded like him." She winced, her walls falling down for a moment, and he realized his guess, for once, had been correct—she had heard Orion, blaming her for his death. "Was he your boyfriend?" He regretted his words as soon as they were out, and Artemis' eyes flashed dangerously.

A stinging pain cut across his cheek, and he winced at the loud _crack_ of her palm hitting his face. "No," She admitted, fury gone from her expression. "But he was a friend. The only male friend I ever had."

The forest was still, so still it was unnerving. Even the leaves didn't seem to move, and with his ADHD mind, Percy noticed a small mouse scuttling across the leaves, digging for food. It scampered across a tree root, tiny whiskers twitching. He shook the strange thought out of his mind, cursing himself. "What was that?"

"A Fleeth. What else?" Artemis looked at him strangely, her brow furrowing. He shook his head quickly, sheathing the sword he realized he was still holding in his hand.

"No. I meant, what does it do? How is it able to control the thoughts of immortals?" Artemis lowered her bow for the first time since the Fleeth dissolved, and it disappeared into silver dust.

"It has always been like that," She informed him. "I do not know when it started, but it has something to do with Hades' helm of Darkness." He could see it in her face that she disliked not knowing—it was in her _blood_ to know things as the goddess of the hunt. "But you are very unlucky indeed—it has not been seen for the last millennia."

"Orion never blamed you for his death," Percy blurted. He cursed himself for bringing up the topic again, but her silver eyes only flashed with pain. He had visited his half-brother on a trip to Elysium—led by Nico, the resident son of Hades—and the archer held nothing but fond memories for his time with the goddess.

Artemis frowned, settling herself on a log at the edge of the clearing. Warily, he took a seat; ready to bolt up the instant she tried to blast him. He doubted it would help much, thought. Him against a goddess? Not likely.

"I was the one who shot him," She reminded him, her voice having lost all traces of the coldness it bore at the beginning of the conversation. "And I pay the price."

"Apollo tricked you," Percy argued. "And Orion understands that."

"I should not have been tricked!" Her voice rose, and anger flooded her cheeks with red. "Look, Perseus—" He only stopped to realize he had been called his name. "What is done is done." Her tone softened as she stared at the sky. "Tell Orion that I am sorry for being so gullible. Tell him that he was a wonderful hunter."

Her voice lowered for a second. "If you ever see him again, tell him that perhaps, with time, I might have come to love him."

The goddess stood and turned, before staring him down again. "This conversation never happened."

And she retreated into the forest.

**Read and press the pretty review button! Thanks to the guest review, and to The Invisible Pretender: I will do Demeter next! Sorry for any OOCness-Artemis is a hard goddess to portray, and if Percy seems too mature, it's because he's almost twenty one now, so he can't be the same little kid with rash decisions anymore. **

**Anyone with suggestions can PM me or Review, and thanks for reading!**

**~Johanna**


	4. Demeter & Persephone

**A/N: I do not own PJO. Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. The review number shot up, and I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review for this story! Credit for the idea of this chapter goes to, again, the Invisible Pretender-I liked the idea of linking this and the last one!**

PERCY

Charon stared at him in shock, his dark eyes opening as wide as quarters. Finally, he collected himself, blinking and then poking him to check if he was real.

"Still not dead, I see. What can I do for you?" His eyes twinkled. "And don't bother telling me you 'drowned in a bathtub…'"

Percy laughed—it had been so long since that quest nine years ago, and he'd almost forgotten the excuse he had tried to pin on the guardian of the underworld. Now that he actually thought of it, drowning in a bathtub—unless it was a bathtub for an Earthborn—would be highly impossible.

"No," He admitted. "I need an audience with someone in Elysium."

Charon nodded, and Percy realized he was wearing another Italian suit, this one a rich shade of burgundy. "Of course. No guarantees once we cross, but I'll take you there as a, ah, thank you for giving me a pay raise." He clacked his heels together, grinning.

Percy followed him into the elevator, and for once, he noticed Charon didn't shove any spirits out of the way. The elevator doors closed, and morphed into the familiar boat that rode across the River Styx. He wondered what the mortals saw, what the mist concealed and bent their mind to.

"We're here," Charon informed him. His voice had turned into a raspy whisper, and Percy nodded before cautiously pushing his way into the crowd of spirits.

Cerberus barked at him, but he threw a red rubber ball into the air. The three headed hellhound snatched it up, almost biting it in half, and he thanked his girlfriend—almost fiancé—for coming up with the idea. Giving the second head a nostalgic rub, he made his way safely through the line.

The lord of the Dead was on his usual black obsidian throne, his eyes pits of hellfire as he glowered at Demeter. The goddess of agriculture was so mad she was red, ruby plants all around her turning into ears of corn, which immediately wilted in Hades' presence.

"Mother! I am _happy here!"_ Persephone was perched on her petaled throne, scowling at her mother. The flower in her hands turned from red to black to purple and back again, wilting and perking back up in the span of seconds. Demeter switched her glare to her daughter, though it turned less harsh.

"How can you be happy in this…this _place?_" She asked, seemingly disgusted at the gloomy palace and the jeweled plants. Persephone rolled her eyes, plucking at her dress. Though she was as washed out as he had seen her on their mission on retrieving the Sword of Hades (Which Zeus hadn't found out about yet), she looked at peace for once.

That, however, was ruined by the scathing glare sent the way of her mother.

"You—" Hades noticed him, his expression changing to relief at the interference. "Perseus! Come to ask something again?" The tone was amused, however, and he marveled at how much the god changed after he had been given a throne on Olympus.

"No," He assured the Lord of the Dead, smiling slightly. "I would like an audience with Orion."

Hades nodded. "The hunter is out today, but Artemis visited this afternoon. She said to expect a call from you." Percy looked up at the god, confused.

"Okay," He muttered. "So do I leave now?"

Hades immediately looked panicked at the thought of his interference gone, and rapidly shook his head. "No, you can stay." Demeter huffed, grains of wheat fluttering around her like pesky flies. She glared at Hades again, and the god glared back.

"Perseus! You must be eating cereal!" The goddess turned to him, smiling like a cat on steroids. "Look how strong you've gotten! See, Hades, if you ate more cereal and oats you wouldn't be so scrawny!"

The god scowled, his eyes darkening. "Sure," He agreed. "In your wildest dreams." In a blast of heat and hellfire, he disappeared into thin air, leaving a fuming Agriculture goddess staring angrily at the spot where he had once stood.

"Perseus, tell Demeter that she's being annoying pestering me about my husband!" Persephone urged him. Her multicolored eyes glimmered as she glanced up at the ceiling, exhaling a breath of annoyance.

"Perseus, tell Persephone she has to come back to her mother _right this instant!_" Demeter demanded. She stomped her foot like a four year old throwing a tantrum, simmering with anger. "Did you _see_ Hades? He's so _dark, _and _gloomy!"_ The goddess shuddered, as if that alone was the deciding factor.

"Mother!" Persephone complained. Her robes shifted from pale gray to white and then stayed lavender. "He's my _husband!_"

"He shouldn't be!" Demeter snapped. "I told you that you could have married Apollo, or Hermes, or anyone! But _no,_ you had to choose _him!_" Demeter clicked her fingers, the air around her beginning to smell like burnt crops. "What is so good about him?"

The two goddesses began bickering again, each throwing glances at him as if begging him to take sides. Caught between two angry goddesses, he tried to avoid sharing Nico's fate.

"Um…my ladies?" Both of them turned.

"Yes?"

He gathered up the courage. "Maybe we could…um…talk about this?" Demeter's eyes lit up, while Persephone sighed before raising her eyebrow, as if encouraging him to go on.

"Yes?" Three chairs appeared out of nowhere, and Demeter sat down. Persephone folded her legs under her and lowered herself into the second, and he had no choice but to follow or look like an idiot standing there. "So, Kore—"

"Don't call me _Kore!_" The goddess of springtime snapped, before she calmed, folding her hands in her lap. "Mother, I _love him!_ Why don't you see that?"

The goddess of Agriculture frowned, wrinkling her brow and staring disapprovingly at her daughter. "How can you love him? He kidnapped you, for gods' sakes!" She leaned back in her chair, still watching Persephone intently. "He tricked you into staying _here!_"

"I wanted to stay here!" Persephone argued. "I ate the seeds because I _liked_ the place. Your palace was all flowers and pink and…_"_She trailed off, shivering at the idea of her mother's supposed pink palace. _Sounds like Aphrodite's, without the makeup,_ Percy thought.

"Lady Demeter…with all due respect, I think your daughter is very much in love with Hades. Though maybe he's dark and gloomy to you, he may be different for Persephone…" It was hard getting the words out as he had never known hades to be anything but dark and gloomy, but Persephone beamed.

"He's right," She agreed, her face lighting up like flowers. "He's always so kind to me…is that so hard for you to see?" She scuffed the ground with a laced sandal, and Demeter's brow creased, pondering the words.

"He's _Hades,_" She argued weakly, staring at her daughter. "Are you sure you want to be with him?" Her words were uncertain now, shaded out by Persephone's passionate argument.

Percy sighed. "Lady Persephone?" The goddess of springtime nodded at him. "You're conflicted," He decided. When she failed to answer, he took that as confirmation. "You love Hades, but you also love your mother despite how frustrating you think she is. You want to stay with Hades, but at the same time Olympus and the mortal world sound wonderful as well."

Persephone stared at him, her eyes wide. "That's…exactly on the spot," She finally said. "Nemesis told me you were good at reading people, but…" Demeter watched her daughter, and he could see the gears turning in her head as she thought about his words.

"You want to stay underground," He continued on, watching Persephone's reaction. "But you also wish to spend time with your mother. If it was possible for Hades and Lady Demeter to get along, you would be overjoyed." She nodded, brushing a stray curl from her face. "But most of all, you want to be _you._ You want to be free to make your own choices, without anchors weighing you down." He paused. "Am I correct?"

He waited for one of them to blast him, to tell him he was so far off it was insane, but Persephone was only gaping at him, a startled expression flitting across her face. "Yes," She finally admitted. "How…how do you know?" She sounded genuinely curious, not demanding, and he shrugged.

"Being stuck between Romans and Greeks is harder than I thought," He told them. "Maybe I want to be free, too."

Demeter glanced at both of them, her honey colored eyes indecisive. "I will give Hades a chance," the goddess relented.  
"But if he hurts you…"

Persephone leaped out of her seat and threw her arms around her mother. "Thank you!" Percy started to back away, but the goddess of springtime called him back. "Thank you for making her understand," She told him. A black pearl appeared in his hand, catching light. "Crush this to go back to your home."

She turned away, and a familiar milky sphere engulfed him as he crunched the pearl under his feet.

**A/N: It was harder than I thought to portray their characters, so...sorry for any OOC ness. I will attempt to do Hestia next-she's one of my favorite goddesses, and I'm eager to write about her. I may or may not finish Hestia's chapter today-already started-so you can check before nine to see if it's up.**

**After that, I plan to do Athena, like Shao4361 suggested-does something with spiders sound too corny? And then, perhaps Hecate. Any other suggestions are very welcome, and if you have a specific request, I will try to include them as we go along! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and that it met your expectations, and press the pretty review button! See, I made a bow for it!**

**PS: I set up a Beta account...since no one's looked at it yet I thought I'd introduce it here. If anyone wants me to Beta them... Thanks for reading this ridiculously long authors note.**

**~Johanna**


	5. Hestia

**A/N: I do not own PJO**

HESTIA

PERCY

The campfire burned low as he made his way up to sacrifice food for the gods, scraping the best part of his meal into the flames. Hestia still sat by the fire, giving him a small smile as she smoothed the hem of her brown dress, poking the flames with a stick. He marveled at how no one saw her, though she was in plain sight.

Dinner finished fast with no announcements by the gods, and no complaints from Dionysus. The sing-a-long was the same, but he cursed whoever had invented the song "Apollo had a little cow, little cow, little cow, Apollo had a little cow with fur as red as a rose."

Cows didn't even have fur…right?

When it ended, the flames that had previously been seven feet tall died until they were merely embers, glowing in the darkness. Campers stumbled towards their cabins, half blinded by the darkness, but he made his way towards the light. The last of the fire beckoned him forwards, warm and welcoming.

Hestia sat cross legged at the side, no longer poking the flames. They died slowly, but at the sight of him leapt quickly back into a simmer. The goddess smiled warmly, moving to make room, and he sat, somehow perfectly at ease with the immortal being next to him.

"How are things with you and Annabeth?" She asked, back to prodding the embers, turning them to create more fuel. "Have you proposed?" He fell backwards, barely managing to catch himself before he sprawled on his back. Automatically, his hand reached for the gray velvet box tucked in his back pocket.

"I was going to do it tonight but…the mood wasn't right," He admitted, patting the ring box absently. Hestia smiled sympathetically, prodding the flame one last time before setting down the stick and letting it burn away.

"No," the goddess of the Hearth mused. "The mood was dreary, as if someone was upset the entire time." She didn't sound curious, though, only as though she were stating the facts. Her eyes glowed, reflecting the fire, but radiating their own light.

"Don't you ever get lonely?" He was truly curious, as the goddess often sat unnoticed, but somehow she didn't seem to mind the solitude. In fact, Hestia had always seemed to enjoy it, a quiet moment to think and dwell in her own thoughts for a little wile before life went on.

But his time in Tartarus had taught him that solitude for more than a little while would quickly become suffocating.

Hestia smiled again, though it now looked forced. Her hand brushed a stray brown strand, the other stoking the flames as they withered and died. "No," She informed him, trying for a shrug. It turned out more like a wince, but he pretended not to notice, waiting for her to admit something.

Her fiery eyes flickered—some emotion passed them. He could've sworn it was loneliness, having seen it in Annabeth's so often when the nightmares chased and reared their ugly heads. She blinked, and it was gone, but that lingering feeling hovered in his mind longer than her gaze did.

"The hearth will always be appreciated," She said softly, smiling with the corners of her mouth. "Even if no one remembers." Her words failed to reflect in her eyes, though—they gave her away. He bit his tongue, afraid to say, but he had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what she was feeling.

He squeezed her shoulder awkwardly; even though he had known her for the longest of times, sitting with a goddess still felt strange and he could _feel_ the tension rolling off both of them. Percy tried not to imagine what would happen should he provoke her, but it was hard imaging provoking this kindhearted goddess.

The fire roared in his ears, blasting his face with heat, and Hestia sheepishly lowered them, shrugging her shoulders. "Sorry," She apologized. "Wasn't paying attention."

"You_ are_ lonely," He deduced. She winced, like it was a physical blow instead of just a few words. "Being invisible hurts, doesn't it? Almost as much as being scorned, possibly more." She glanced at him from the corner of one fiery eye, still prodding the fire.

Nodding slowly, she set down the stick. "It's hard being goddess of Hearth and Home nowadays," She admitted. "People…they're so busy they forget about home, forget about the heart. Hermes gets all the attention now." She laughed bitterly, but It held no jealousy, only sadness.

"It's hard," She continued, "To see that when I leave the camp the first thing I see is a person staring at a…what are they called? EPhone?"

"IPhone." He corrected, referring to the latest electronic device.

"Right. And they don't look up—not when they cross the street, not when they talk to someone. It's shocking how much love a person can place in a phone, a simple electronic device." She sighed, shaking her head. The flames dimmed again, before building itself back up.

"They do that," Percy shrugged. "I guess it's part of today's society…and people nowadays. It's nice that demigods aren't able to use them, since they send off a flare. They can concentrate more on important things." He looked towards the cabins, where each of them faintly glowed with the magic of their patrons.

"Yes," Hestia nodded. "I suppose I'd like a home, a place where people are loved and respected. All the other gods have followers, different followers, perhaps not humans, but I have always been content with just me. But it would be nice to have that, I suppose."

He shifted, unable to stay still after sitting for almost half an hour. Someone yelled something from the Athena cabin, and he glanced over for a second before shifting his attention back to the goddess in front of him. "You know, most people don't see you because you blend in well, not because you're not wanted."

"I know," Hestia replied, though she still looked somewhat depressed. "I want to blend in. The other gods…they don't understand respect is earned. I don't want people bowing, just because I'm a goddess and they feel I'm going to blast them just because."

He couldn't argue—most of the gods really made him feel that way, as if one wrong word and he'd be blasted to tiny bits, blown to dust and scattered on the wind. But Hestia had this…aura around her, something that told him he wouldn't be killed anytime soon.

She glanced at the night sky, shimmering with stars. "So many heroes died during the war, and I couldn't do anything. The hearth is not meant for fighting…it's not my style, and I don't think I could handle it. Just…" She sighed helplessly, peering into the fire as if it held her fate.

"I know," Percy murmured. "But it gives up hope. You keep it safe, guard the strongest element of all. Isn't that important?" She frowned.

"There's always something else. There was once a hero, much like you. He was handsome, brave, smart…all the makings of a hero. And I dared to hope that maybe he would be the one to change the world. His name was Bellerophon…he tamed the original Pegasus."

"Wasn't he thrown off a horse or something?" Percy blurted, immediately wishing he could take it back and let her talk. She gave him a small smile, followed by a halfhearted glare for interrupting.

"Yes," She answered. "That was his flaw—pride. When I talked to him, I realized immediately it would be his downfall. I warned him, told him not to make foolish decisions based on foolish pride alone. But he forgot, or maybe he just didn't listen—he went and flew up to Olympus."

Percy nodded. "Wasn't that why Zeus blasted him out of the sky?"

"Not quite," She corrected. "Zeus sent a gladfly to sting Pegasus, who pitched Bellerophon out of the sky. He was a fool; a hero, but a foolish one."

"Heracles was worse." Percy immediately attached, remembering what the immortal had done to the deceased huntress Zoe Nightshade. Hestia laughed, the first laugh he had heard all night. The flame bubbled and rose in height, responding to her amusement.

"Yes, he was," Hestia admitted. "He was prideful, arrogant, and cruel—not very smart, and rash. And yet he was the only one turned immortal, the only one with a decent ending. Besides your namesake—Perseus, that is. Now _that_ was a hero." She sounded wistful, as if heroes in the old days were somehow better than the ones now.

The goddess looked at him. "Do not take it personally," She added. "But back then, it was either about yourself or someone else, no in between. No one dared to do rash things—besides Heracles—and no one killed themselves out of shame or pity."

"Sounds a lot better than the world now," Percy joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it failed to work. Hestia sighed.

"It was. You, Percy Jackson, are an exception. I see in you the good qualities of a hero, with none of the bad. Do not let me down. The first time I hoped, it failed. Do not let it happen again."

"I wont," He vowed.

She smiled. "Good. The night is setting in; good night, and be careful—I heard the cleaning harpies are especially vicious."

He swore the flames were higher the next day.

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and review! I will accept the challenge of Triton and Amphitrite...**

**~Johanna **


	6. Amphitrite & Triton

**A/N: I do not own PJO**

PERCY

The water glowed around his father's palace, shimmering an odd shade of lime green. Mermen and Mermaids glided the perimeter, with Cyclops patrolling the entrance. Two burly guards stood tall at the doors of the palace, hefting clubs and spears with points made of a see through crystal.

He walked—or was it swam?—up to the first, and the guard looked him over before lowering his spear and gesturing for the other to do the same. A couple of mermaids glanced over and waved, and he hesitantly waved back. They giggled and sunk back into the coral.

"Perseus," The first guard said. "Welcome. My Lady Amphitrite is expecting you." He wasn't sure what to make of that—when he had received the invitation, he was unsure of who had sent it. Now, to find out that it was the woman who probably hated him most; well, it didn't make him very excited for the visit.

The guard stifled a laugh at his expense, instead turning it into a cough, but Percy heard. The other shrugged apologetically for his comrade, but they both looked amused at his reluctance. Both stood aside, allowing him entrance to the palace.

"Relax," The second chided him. "Amphitrite has sworn not to…err…harm you in any way. On the River Styx." He supposed that helped—knowing that he wasn't walking to his death was easier than not knowing anything at all. But still he shrugged, wary of his father's wife.

"Will Triton be there?" He internally groaned at the guard's nod, having met his half brother before under less pleasant circumstances. "Okay," He said aloud. "Just two people who probably want me squished to a grease spot. No biggie." The guard openly snickered this time, clapping him on the back.

"Go on," He said, and the doors opened. Percy walked in.

Majestic wasn't the word for the palace. Majestic was high ceilings with trophies and luxurious decorations, but this looked more like a hotel. It bore a slightly unsettling resemblance to the Lotus Hotel and Casino, and suddenly he understood why it had taken so long to build a game room.

The room itself was the size of the dining hall at camp half blood added to the one at Camp Jupiter _plus_ the throne room on Olympus. It's walls were loaded with the newest video games, from Mine craft to even the oldest versions of Pac man. There were only three figures running around and playing, though, and he recognized them as some of the younger Cyclops.

Disco lights flashed above him as he weaved around the various game consoles littering the area, looking for the door on the other side. His legs were sore by the time he left, and that was saying something—he had wandered through Tartarus, and hardly anything made his legs sore anymore.

Except wandering through a giant game room that took ten thousand years to build…he finally reached the other end, his legs feeling like wobbly pieces of jello. The throne room was large, and spacious, but not in the overwhelming way. The walls were lined with pearls from the ocean, glittering in the light.

Amphitrite stood in the middle, her tail swishing back and forth. Her black hair was swept upwards in a regal hairdo, cascading down her shoulders.

"So. You have finally come." Eyes glittering with displeasure, she took a seat in the throne next to his father's. Triton was already seated in his, eyeing him with distrust. His tail flicked from side to side as he scrutinized Percy for…what? Weapons? Bombs?

He broke the silence. "So, _brother,"_ He said 'brother' as though it was the worst word possible, and Percy wondered bitterly why he was called here if all the people hated him. "How's it going in the _mortal_ world?" Percy bristled at the poorly concealed insult.

"It's okay. Better than it was before." He spoke mildly, but anyone who knew him could easily uncover the annoyance hidden just inches beneath the surface. As it turned out, Triton didn't know him—the prince of the sea glowered at his 'lack of response.'

"Triton," Amphitrite cut in. "Why don't you tell _Perseus_ here what I called him here for?" Triton scowled, crossing his arms and leaning back stubbornly.

"Why me?" He complained, uncharacteristically. Amphitrite glared at him, and he shuddered for a second. "Okay, okay!" Percy swore his father's wife was bipolar—she beamed at her son the next second. "Father wanted to see if you could…" he paused to grimace, as if the words tasted like firewater. "Take me to the mortal world."

"Take _you_?" Percy asked incredulously. He could almost see what a disaster it would be—"Good morning America—a teenager with a trident and a fish tail has just blown up the entire Borough of Manhattan, turning fourteen thousand innocent civilians into unsuspecting goldfish! Stay tuned for more!"

"As if _I'd_ want to go," Triton sneered, tossing a glare at him for good measure. It was almost like he could read his thoughts, the one of the reporter standing in the midst of ten thousand American goldfish flopping around. "Father says I should 'learn' about the mortals and how they live life."

Percy found it hard to imagine Triton, in an apartment building, cooking or cleaning and going grocery shopping. As a mortal, he was used to it, but he knew from experience—note to self: Do not invite Poseidon to live with you for a month—that immortals tended to be used to conjuring things out of thin air.

"I'm…not sure you'd work well there." He balanced on the tightrope, wobbling slightly with every withering glance Amphitrite and Triton sent his way. "Mortals do things a lot differently." Amphitrite scoffed, glancing at Triton from the corner of a luminescent green eye.

"Yes, and it would be good for him to learn." Her voice was cool, cold even. She watched him with eyes like furies—sharp and piercing, almost like she was clawing him mentally, or dreaming of raking her eyes down his face like sharp knives.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Okay, bad question. _Very_ bad question. As if he needed more to show how stupid and 'Seaweed Brained' he really was… Of course Amphitrite hated him. He was the result of her husband falling for a _mortal_ and having an affair, and Triton was loyal enough to his mother that he hated Percy as well.

"I don't hate you." Amphitrite's eyes were blazing, daring him to contradict. He blinked.

"Could've fooled me."

The goddess narrowed her eyes. "Okay, maybe I do dislike you," She admitted. He was suddenly struck with the urge to say 'that's an understatement.' "But I don't _hate_ you. You were the result of Poseidon's unfaithful habits, yes. But I am not Hera. I do not blame you for his mistake."

Triton scowled at his mother, as if that alone could stop her from telling him. "Mother!" he protested. "he's a _half-blood!" _Amphitrite turned to her son, raising her eyebrows in a 'shut up' motion. He snapped his mouth shut, still glaring.

"Also," her voice held a tint of amusement now, a shading on the edge; barely visible, but there all the same. "_Someone_—" She gestured not-so-discreetly at Triton, "Was jealous." Triton immediately whacked his mother on the shoulder, his turquoise eyes glowing with anger.

"I _was not!_" He sulked like a four year old, his tail swishing in indignation. Percy eyed him and his mother warily, not quite ready to believe Amphitrite so easily. His stepmother—oh, it was so _weird_ to call her that—smirked at him, the closest to a smile she'd ever given him/

"So what do you call 'But even the naiads like him!'?" She poked fun at Triton, who flushed under her knowing gaze. "Surely not insulting…"

"Shut _up!_" The heir of the seas snapped, slamming his hands down on his throne. The sea colored marble made a cracking sound, and part of the armrest fell off. Amphitrite turned to Percy, an amused smile on her face. He swallowed—maybe they could get along after all."

"That's the third time Triton's cracked his throne," Amphitrite remarked, much to Triton's annoyance. Percy stifled a laugh as his armrest cracked again. "The first time it was the seat, from slamming his trident into it—"

"Mother!"

Amphitrite stopped, her eyes still glimmering with amusement. "Okay, okay. I'll stop." She stared at Percy for a long time. "The point is, Perseus… I don't hate you. But it's hard looking at the evidence that your husband isn't faithful." Her expression softened slightly. "But you aren't that bad. Antaeus…now that one I really hated."

Percy vaguely remembered teeth in a wave pattern, and skulls dancing on a wall. Agreeing with the Queen of the seas, he pushed the memory away. "Yes," He agreed. "But he worshipped Poseidon the most of all, right?" Dancing skulls flashed into his mind again.

Triton seemed to have finally gotten over his embarrassment. "Right," Triton answered. "To the point of insanity. Now, I hope you don't mind, but we're getting extremely off topic right now."

Percy remembered with a start they were supposed to be talking about taking Triton into the mortal world. "Oh, yeah. You could just follow me home, but..." He glanced at Triton's tail. "Can you change into a human?" His half brother rolled his eyes, staring at him as if he had dropped from the stomach of a hydra or something.

"Of course," He said, like it should be obvious. "But then again, you've never been good at seeing the obvious." Before Percy could retort, Amphitrite cut in again, possibly saving him from being blasted to bits. Immortals tended to feel the urge to do so.

"Okay." She handed Triton a slip of paper. "So Triton will follow you home, and Percy—"he realized it was the first time she called him something other than Perseus. "Good luck with him," She said. "I heard he can be quite a handful." She handed him a pearl, much like the one he used to leave the underworld.

As they crushed the orbs, the last thing he heard was Triton's indignant, "Hey!" before a bubble encased him, and his hearing shut off.

Maybe his extended family wasn't so bad after all.

**A/N: Sorry I didn't update yesterday-this chapter was harder than i thought. I didn't think i did too well on it, but...okay. Tell me what you thought, the good, bad, and the ugly. I will do Hecate next, and then Athena.**

**And to the Invisible Pretender-thanks for the inspirations, and did this meet your standards/expectations?**

**~Johanna**


	7. Nyx

**I do not own PJO**

PERCY

He was sitting on the beach, happy and all, and then a freaking goddess he swore he had gotten rid of popped up in the middle of his private thoughts. Gee, that sure makes a person joyful like a four year old with Santa Claus!

Not. Plus, Santa Claus didn't even exist, so it was kind of a bad comparison.

The sky darkened for a second, and instinctively he whirled and uncapped his pen. There was a faint hissing sound as the blade slid into form, and his eyes widened. A woman in her mid twenties stood behind him, her black gown fluttering around her legs like gossamer wings.

His first thought was—Monster. Blame him, but if you were a demigod, and someone showed up in the middle of camp looking all powerful and shit? He was instantly wary. She glanced at the sword like it didn't trouble her at all, which sent his mind into a crazed frenzy. If any god tried to read his thoughts now, he was sure they would get a permanent headache.

She smiled, a warm one with a hint of apology. He didn't ever recall meeting her, but apparently she was expecting him to do something. Lowering the sword point an inch, he tried to figure why she looked so familiar. Not in a good way.

Her eyebrows rose as she watched his eyes dart back and forth. "I am Nyx," She finally informed him, after he threw his hands(And his sword) up in exasperation. The blade was immediately pointed at her.

_I freaking swear I saw her in Tartarus_! His memory screamed.

His mind whirled as he debated possible ways to stall for time and get help, but he drew a blank. He doubted that anything could help, though. A bunch of demigods against a Primordial? Screw getting help—they would all just be killed anyway. His grip on his sword tightened. "You."

"Me," Nyx agreed calmly. She held her hands up in a symbol of surrender, and he cautiously lowered the sword and scanned her for hidden weapons. The Primordial regarded her calmly. She was in human form; thank the gods, not 'evil demon who wants to destroy the world' form.

Actually, now that he thought about it, she was actually beautiful, with hair the color of obstidian, flowing down her back and stunning silver and black eyes that flashed when she turned. The wings were still there, stretching from her back in an endless expanse of raven feathers.

To sum it up, she looked nothing like the demon that had attempted to kill Percy and Annabeth when they had met for the first time.

"What do you want?" Okay, so it wasn't the smartest thing to piss off an all powerful goddess that already probably hates you with a passion, but what could he say? If there was a god of annoying people, he was probably a decendant of him.

She smiled, snapping her wings shut with a flapping sound. Unlike in Tartarus, where they had created an aura of darkness, these merely blasted him with a face full of air and a couple of stray feathers. Not the best change, but how could he complain? She wasn't killing him yet—that was a good start.

Almost tentatively, she sat down on the sand next to her, her black chiton making her stand out like obsidian on a field of snow. Instinctively, he moved away, his hand still clutching the hilt of his blade with a death grip. For moments, she didn't move, just staring out at the sea, and he finally allowed himself to relax.

She didn't seem like she was plotting his death as she turned and regarded him carefully. Her eyes—he still found them intriguing—scanned him for anything and everything. He wasn't even sure what she was looking for—she just was. The way she observed him was unsettling, like predator and prey.

"I want to apologize." She was blunt, that was obvious. If he was drinking anything, he probably would have choked, but as there was nothing in his mouth, he embarrassed himself anyway by going into a coughing fit. She stared at him, slightly amused—there was nothing guarded about her expression. It was written all over her face.

Just when his day couldn't get any worse, he grumbled to himself inside his head. A random goddess comes up and freaking apologizes for almost killing me.

Nyx shot him a slightly peeved glance, and he realized that she had read his thoughts, plucking them from his mind like petals off a flower. Was he really that easy to read? As she opened her mouth to respond to the question, he decided he really didn't need to know.

"The Olympians may find admitting faults hard," she ignored his previous comment (It was his mind, for gods sakes!). "But I have never seen it as difficult. Perhaps that is why I am so often overlooked." Her voice was weary, and he decided he liked her voice when she was not in 'I'm going to cut you to pieces and then blow you up' mode.

"But…you're night. How do they overlook that?" His brain, apparently, hadn't quite woken up, and he mentally smacked himself in the face with whatever he could find inside his head. Unfortunately, there were way too many weapons, so he imagined himself hitting himself with a rifle, which was not a pleasant experience.

"Night is the most basic," She explained, her fingertips absently tracing patterns on the sand. They formed swirls and designs, some of them greek words and others that just looked like meaningless squiggles. The waves drew away from her, as if sensing her prescense. Probably they had; water was unnerving that way. "People forget the most basic."

"Wha…" He was completely lost—Annabeth was more clear than this. Heck, the _Oracle(_Rachel and the mummy) was more clear than this, and she spoke in riddles. Nyx eyed him with an amused smirk on her face, which he somehow found infuriating. "What?"

She shook her head. "Tell me, Perseus—"

"Percy." To his relief, she didn't seem to be bothered by the interruption. Instead, her hands traced one last puzzle on the sand before they folded in her lap.

"Tell me, Percy Jackson. Do you know the deity of water?" Her strangely hypnotizing eyes bore into his, and he got the feeling she wasn't looking for an obvious answer. He was about to answer Poseidon, when he realized that as much as he didn't know about his dad, his father was the god of the _seas,_ not water.

He shrugged. "Hydros?" It was a wild guess—a crazy one, one he faintly recalled from Annabeth's lectures(Man, were they annoying), but Nyx's face lit up like she'd won a million dollar prize. Her wings spread and fluttered for a second before they folded back together, and her eyes sparkled.

"Very good." Her voice was still calm, but there was joy hidden in her tone. "Be proud, Percy. You are one of the only six to answer that question." She gave him a smile he decided was rare, and that she needed to smile _much_ more often. (All of the gods did.)

"Most people would say Poseidon," He guessed, dipping his hand into the sea. It responded, lapping and rolling at his touch. "But he's the _sea,_ not water. So was Oceanus, though he was closer to freshwater." Nyx narrowed her eyes, calculating.

"Your girlfriend, Annabeth?" He nodded, slightly impressed that she still remembered her name. "She's a smart one. I'm guessing she taught you this?" His face heated slightly, but he shrugged in answer. "Yes, she did. I'm surprised you remembered what she said." Her tone was slightly teasing.

"I'm surprised you remembered her name," He admitted, still not meeting her eyes. "She has a…knack for pissing off the gods, while remaining innocent. Me? I just piss them off. No argument there." She laughed, the first one he'd heard that didn't sound evil. It was melodious and cheerful, the opposite of her personality down in Tartarus.

"She angered me," Nyx remembered. "I was foolish—a travel brochure? Guides? She could've thought that plan more thoroughly.. But I was forgotten too many times—time in the Pit tied my mind up. It makes one bitter. I wish I hadn't attacked."

"We could've been more diplomatic," he decided. "Thought our plan through more?" She shook her head.

"If you had, you would've been dead. You, Percy, have very good instincts. Follow them, and you will prosper." Now she really sounded like the Oracle, but he decided against mentioning it to her.

"I guess I understand your intentions," He relented, finally sheathing his sword. He didn't realize that he'd been holding it, but when he set it down his arms were sore. "I'll tell Annabeth."

She nodded. Her chiton rustled as she rose, brushing at the sand. "Tell her I'm sorry," She told him. "And tell her she would make a wonderful lawyer. She's got a very wise tongue." Nyx cracked another smile, already turning away.

"Do me a favor, will you?" Nyx was asking this time, not commanding. "Remember me. Remember Night, and the rest of the Primordials that have been pushed away in favor of the newest gods. I will see you again."

She was gone in a shower of starlight.

* * *

He wished he had a picture of Annabeth's face when he told her the news.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. Enjoy...I won't accept the challenge of Gaea...sorry. I don't really like her (Understantement) SO i'll probably end up beating her up. Sorry again. Hopefully this was good, and in character...Nyx doesn't get much non evil character in the books.**


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